What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite?
“I walk where stories intertwine,
Through shifting sand and rooted pine.
Each soul I meet, each sky I see,
Becomes the holiday for me.
Not bound by clocks, nor tethered days,
I find my rest in others’ ways.”
Have you ever been camping?
Yes, I have camped, for life is a flame,
a dance of the wild, a nameless game.
We build, we burn, we rise, we fall,
yet under the stars, we are endless, we are all.
Yes, I have camped beneath open skies,
for life itself is a camp in disguise.
We pitch, we wander, we laugh, we roam,
under countless stars, we find our home
When do you feel most productive?
I feel most alive when silence speaks,
At dawn, when golden courage leaks,
My dreams align, my spirit flows,
The world still sleeps, but magic glows.
Simi
What are your favorite emojis?
If my emojis ruled the land,
Wink, laugh, heart, and coffee in hand,
With a thumbs-up, leading the band!
What topics do you like to discuss?
“I love to speak where joy takes flight,
In nature’s arms and morning light.
Where laughter rings from young and old,
And stories by the fire are told.
Of herbs that heal and food made kind,
Of peace we stir and strength we find.
Of music soft, of yoga’s flow,
Of breath that helps the spirit grow.
Ask me of life, I’ll gently share,
It lives in all moments warm not rare.”
Simi
When is the last time you took a risk? How did it work out?
I took a risk, unsure, afraid,
Sent my son where paths weren’t laid.
“Isha” called with quiet grace,
A school, a space, a sacred place.
No map in hand, just mother’s trust,
But magic bloomed, as all things must.
He found himself, so bold, so true,
And soared beyond what I once knew.
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In Pahalgam’s hush, a promise lies,
Of rising suns and endless skies.
Though shadows fall and tears may stream,
The soul still dares to dream its dream.
Scarred but sacred, this land stands tall,
Wrapped in the tricolor, embracing all.
We rise not just to heal, but to defend,
With hope as our shield, and justice our stand.
Simi
Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.
He came with stars stitched on his chest,
A wanderer with no time to rest.
I chose the fire, the fight, the flame,
A soldier’s love, no easy game.
I am Pahalgam,
Cradled by mountains, carved by rivers,
a hymn of hush, a cradle of peace.
But today, I weep.
What should have bloomed,
a festival of footsteps,
laughter spilled like sunlight on pine,
was shattered by shadows,
by hands heavy with hate.
They were not merely taken,
they were chosen
By a blindness that fears faith,
by a cruelty that marks belief as a wound.
Now, my meadows hold their breath.
The trails sleep beneath dust.
The breeze, once laced with whispers of joy,
carries only the mourning of the land.
This is no passing sorrow.
It is a scar,
etched deep into my valleys,
aching, unhealed, unforgettable.
Simi
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
I charge with will, no moment I dodge,
Regret finds no home where I boldly lodge.
When action calls, I rise, I strike,
With fire in my soul and thunder alike.
Simi says... 